Hide and Seek (for self)

I am playing this game alone,
hide and seek--

(slowly)

one one thousand
two one thousand, and on,
thought but not spoken,

nine one thousand...
ready or not, here I come,

each syllable reverberating
with questions:
who am I counting for? and
how is it this 'who' has split from
me? --

linguistic knots, puzzlement
denying smooth flow,
pentameter of past poets gone

(pause, rummaging
through the attic)

puzzlement, again,
private play and rapid growth
of tangled unexpected:

where to look, where to look
I wonder as my hands unmask my
face.

Blues orbs dart, this way, and that,
trying to catch a glinting clue,

but uncertainty is impenetrable
by human sight

(so I linger, what else?)

suspended specimen in fluid filled
mason jar

I want to see it crack, barrier
trickling out and pooling through
hairline fracture,

but who wouldn't want to feel
whole,
or just not missing something?

Limbs don't go slack,
mind doesn't settle for an uncomplicated
picture--
give me Dali and ask for critiques,
(I never settle for the crudely drawn
stick house)--

repeat:
who is it I am looking for?
how did it vanish and when?
and where is it hiding?

Answers, Heavens,
give me answers,
pllllllleassseeeeeeeee,
desperation etched
prominently in each tone,

because soon I might just abandon
this chance at rediscovery
and settle for a "new I,"

I am tired of playing games,
tired of playing games,
tired of games,
ready or not, here I come:

still...
echoing...

(imaginary figments!?
THE REAL?!)